free verse, three stanzas
A chair balances on its hind legs
There is a fallen lamp on the floor
The light has gone out.
My mother’s face is broken
There is a drop of blood hanging out of her nose
Her eyes are shut
Ready for the bang of the wooden chair on the wooden floor.
Her hands are up as if to defend herself
From my father.
My father’s hand is curled into a fist
His eyes are fire
The muscles in his back are tense.
His mouth is drawn in a tight line
The window next to my father is shattered
Blood from his knuckles stains the glass.
Outside the window
A dog chases his tail
As his owner watches
With a smile of content resting on his face.
Caught in flight
A bluejay’s wings hover above a branch
It will fly away when time is no longer frozen.
It will escape.